


but i'd marry you with paper rings

by nevernevergirl



Series: the war is over and we are beginning [8]
Category: Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Kid Fic, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevernevergirl/pseuds/nevernevergirl
Summary: It's the past week of road trip, the past year of co-parenting, the better part of a decade of holding each other's hands through the impossible and the mundane and every argument and kiss and laugh in between. It's a fucking life of her best friend, right there in the periphery of every memory that matters.Gert, Chase, the end of a roadtrip, and the start of something new. (Or, the one where they get married.)
Relationships: Chase Stein/Gertrude Yorkes
Series: the war is over and we are beginning [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685389
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	but i'd marry you with paper rings

A month before Gert and Chase were set to move back to LA for good, Molly informed them she was planning to kidnap their baby.

Chase had spent the next two weeks gently reminding her that, technically, offering to babysit their 15-month-old so they could turn a cross-country move into a vacation doesn’t fall under the legal definition of kidnapping.

(“She didn’t offer,” Gert had said, petulantly. “She _told_ me she was taking Amelia home.”

“Maybe when you go to law school, you can figure out if you have a case,” Chase had said, at least 73 percent seriously.)

Gert’s not going to admit it to a known kidnapper, but it was a pretty thoughtful idea. When they’d first moved out to Massachusetts for school, Chase had bought this old death-trap junker of an RV for dirt cheap from the mechanic he’d been working for, and he’d fixed it up as a surprise for her. They’d loaded Old Lace up, and the three of them had made their way cross-country together. They’d gone home the normal way for most breaks, but every summer until Amelia was born, they’d taken a road trip back to the hostel in the RV.

For years, it had been the bridge between the life they’d built and the new one they were starting. Gert can appreciate the idea of a last hurrah in it, the way they’d started, before they move on to the next thing. It’s poetic. It’s fun. She’s honestly having a good time, even if she doesn’t want Molly getting smug about it. 

And she does really, really miss her kid, because the human experience is complex and she contains multitudes, or whatever. 

They’re in Vegas, their last stop before heading back to LA tomorrow. It had been their first stop, back when they were 19 and armed with passable, Alex-forged fake IDs and a wad of guilt money Victor Stein had shoved at his son and Chase hadn’t known what to do with.

Tonight, they’ve got a much more modest amount of their own money to blow, and real IDs, and they’re taking turns getting ready while they tag team bedtime via Wiztalk.

When Gert comes out of the bathroom, eyeliner on, Chase is still talking to their daughter. He's got his phone propped against the lamp on the bedside table while he holds up a picture book, making faces at Amelia through the screen as he flips through the pages.

"A is for Amelia Earhart," he reads, grinning when the baby yells _mel-ya_ enthusiastically, her little hands flailing. "Yeah, Amelia like you, that's right. You're so smart, huh? This aviation pioneer, the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic—"

Gert loves them so much she's surprised she has room left over to feel anything else. 

She watches Chase read for a moment, walking over and sitting on the side of the bed, hooking her chin over his shoulder as he gets to _F is for Frida Khalo_. He looks up, smiling.

"Hey. You wanna do a few pages?" he offers. Gert shakes her head, waving at Amelia, and at Karolina, who has her settled on her lap. 

"Nah, she likes your voices better on this one," she shrugs.

When he wraps up a few minutes later, Amelia's yawning and making the soft, fussy noises that signal bedtime. Chase shifts over so Gert's more centered in the camera's frame as he sets the book down.

"Alright, tagging you in," he grins, and Gert feels impossibly fond. She sings Amelia's favorite lullaby, soft and low, and leans against Chase’s side as they watch the baby settle.

"Goodnight, kiddo," he mumbles. "See you tomorrow. Bye, Kar. Thanks for putting her to bed."

Gert blows a kiss to the baby, laughing as she sleepily blows a sloppy kiss back. When Karolina hangs up the phone, Chase sighs.

"Is it weird that we're in Vegas, and I just want to do bedtime with our kid for real?"

That's what does it, sort of. But not really. It's the past hour they've spent on the phone through bathtime and storytime and bedtime. It's the past week of road trip, the past year of co-parenting, the better part of a decade of holding each other's hands through the impossible and the mundane and every argument and kiss and laugh in between. It's a fucking life of her best friend, right there in the periphery of every memory that matters.

She's been making her way to the edge of a cliff, and Chase reading a board book to a toddler 200 miles away is sending her right the fuck over.

She slides off the bed, landing on one knee. 

"Hey," she says, grabbing his left hand for good measure. She wonders if her voice sounds as soft and tender as she feels. "Wanna do something crazy?"

He says yes. 

It's the easiest thing in the world, saying yes to Gert. She could hold her hand out for him a million times, and he'll always take it. He was afraid of it, once, for a while, but that's years and a shit ton of therapy sessions in the past.

Loving Gert is easy, and if he’s learned anything, it’s that he's good at it.

So he says _yeah, okay, why the fuck not_ , and Gert laughs, and he laughs, and then he's dragging her up and onto his lap, and they're kissing and laughing and Gert's lipstick gets smudged beyond repair. It's pretty hot. 

Three hours later, they're sitting in a corner booth in a Las Vegas Taco Bell, sharing the same bench. Gert's feet are in his lap, and she's got a flimsy tulle veil attached to a plastic tiara perched crookedly on her head. When she bites into her Crunchwrap Supreme, she gets taco shell and lettuce all over the table and her jeans, and all he can think is _this is a perfect moment_.

She's fucking perfect. 

He says that part out loud, and Gert's face turns red, and she lobs a cinnamon twist in his general direction.

"You're so lame," she mumbles.

"You married me," he grins.

"That can't be your argument for everything I say," she says, raising her eyebrows. "You've already used it, like, five times."

"What, like there's a quota?" 

"There might be!"

She stares at him indignantly and he raises an eyebrow at her, and then they're both laughing again— so hard his stomach hurts, so hard Gert knocks half their nachos onto the floor. 

"Fuck," she says, still laughing as she dives under the table, grabbing at her mess. When she comes up, he's smiling so widely it feels like his face might break.

"What?" 

"Nothing," he shakes his head, grabbing her hand to pull her back into place next to him. "Just. We get to do this forever."

He waits for her to say _we were going to anyway, dummy_ or maybe _a piece of paper and a drive-thru chapel Elvis didn't decide that any more than we already did_ because all of that's true.

Instead, Gert bites her lip and shoves a cinnamon twist in his mouth like it's a makeshift wedding cake.

"Yeah," she says, her voice quiet and young and soft. "Yeah, we do. Fuck, Molly is going to murder us for doing this without her here.”

She’s grinning when she says it, though, so he grins back. His jaw fucking hurts from how much he’s smiled at Gert tonight. He should probably be used to it by now, but maybe he’s never going to get used to Gert. He’s okay with that.

“They all are,” he shrugs. “Nico might hex us.”

“Okay, we’ve been over this, she’s not technically the hexing kind of witch.”

“That’s definitely never stopped her from trying.”

“She does _really_ want to turn you into a toad.”

And then they’re back to laughing. It’s not even funny, but everything’s amazing right now, so he kind of can’t stop.

Gert leans her forehead against his shoulder. “Can we keep this just for us for a while?”

He frowns. “You don’t want to tell anybody we got married?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she sits up slightly, shaking her head. “This is really nice. Just me and you. Obviously I want our friends to know, but this moment, you know? It feels like. I don’t know. Special. Ours. I think I just want to be selfish about it for a little while.”

Her face looks the way he feels; like her heart’s cracking open right between the two of them. He leans his forehead against hers.

“Yeah,” he says, barely breathing the words out, the air between them warm. Gert closes her eyes, and he reaches up, thumbing across her cheekbone lightly. He bites his lip. “We can tell the baby, right?”

“The baby’s 15 months old,” Gert says, like he’s being stupid and she doesn’t actually mind it. She shakes her head. “Obviously we can tell the baby. We, like, _made_ her.”

“So it’s still us. Loophole,” he says, grinning. 

“And, like. Lace is gonna know. Lace definitely already knows.”

“Well, she’s part of you. Kind of.”

“Loophole,” Gert echoes, grinning. “I mean. The second the rest of them find out, Karolina’s definitely going to deck out the entire Hostel in flowers and shove me into the first white dress she finds and make us have a real ceremony for everyone, and honestly, I’m kind of way more into that idea than I should be, but—”

“You want this part to last a little longer,” he says. “Yeah. I get it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he repeats, smirking. “Besides, that gives you time to get me a ring, Mrs. Yorkes.”

She laughs, loud and surprised, and she shoves at him a little bit. “You’re a gold digger, Mr. Yorkes.”

“Yeah, gotta remind you again, you married me,” he says, and it doesn’t sound like he’s teasing her the way he means for it to, but that’s okay. He means it. If he sounds like he can’t believe it, he means it.

“Yeah,” she says, kind of sounding the same way.

He smiles, and she smiles, and they lace their fingers together. 

“I’m going to kiss the bride now,” he says, just to make her laugh, just so he can kiss her through it.

“You better,” she says, like a dare.

And he takes it, like he’s going to keep taking Gert Yorkes’ dares for the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> this wasn't the fic i was planning on finishing first, but then gregg said he would have liked to see them get married, so obviously it was FATE telling me to edit this one first.
> 
> (also, thank you everyone for all your nice comments about gertchase as parents/amelia on my last fic! i was super nervous about how that would come off, so i'm glad you all liked it, and I hope you like this as well!)


End file.
